


The Poor Boy Lost His Head

by Ship_theboybands



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Gen, LUKE JUST WANTS MICHAEL TO BE OKAY, M/M, Sad Michael, also tw for probably depression but it's not clear what it is that's actually up with michael, hopeful ending?? kinda?, im sorry, interpret it how you will, mentioned cal and ash but only for like a sentance, not rlly tbh read this if u want to be sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 15:57:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2394356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ship_theboybands/pseuds/Ship_theboybands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Did you want to go for a walk or something?” Luke asks, and Michael doesn't, really, but he finds himself standing up anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Poor Boy Lost His Head

**Author's Note:**

> so i wrote angst??? normally i am fluffy and humorous but recently i've been feeling kind of ??¿¿? so this happened.
> 
> basically im a lil sad and so michael is really sad so i can channel my inner angst. 
> 
> i also want to note that i tried to write this without romanticizing depression or mental health, but if it came across that way i'm really sorry. I kind of just wanted to write down all my feelings but put it into a context where its kind of happier because it's about two people who make me very happy. but yeah, if anyone is pissed off by this, please tell me and i can take it down.
> 
> title taken from another story by the head and the heart which i wrote the fic while listening to
> 
> ps come say hi fairyflossclifford.tumblr.com

Michael is sitting at the end of the bed. His head is so empty. 

He is hollow and sad, and confused because there’s not really any reason why, and it’s Autumn.

Luke is wearing a big jumper, and Michael is wearing a t-shirt, and they don’t have anywhere to be for a few hours. And Michael isn't saying anything at all.

Ashton and Calum are somewhere else, doing… something. Michael never really knows, and Luke is usually with them but he’s not, right now, even though Michael said he could leave. 

Michael looks at the carpet and thinks about a lots of things and makes himself even sadder, and Luke is just sitting there, watching him, or something.

“Are you okay?” Luke asks, his voice too loud and too quiet at the same time, and Michael doesn't really think he can answer that. The logical answer is yes, but that’s not true either.

Michael shrugs.

“Did you want to go for a walk or something?” Luke asks, and Michael doesn't, really, but he finds himself standing up anyway.

It’s very beautiful, outside. Everything is very orange and crisp and it feels much earlier in the day than it is. It’s kind of foggy, too. Michael likes the fog. He likes how the cold is biting at his nose. He also feels a little bit like he’s dragging some kind of weight with him, and his throat hurts. It’s like when you’re trying not to cry but someone keeps asking you questions so you have to swallow every few seconds to stop yourself from cracking.

“Michael?” Luke says, so hesitant, so gentle. They are walking through an area of trees behind the venue which is weird and misplaced but somewhere in the back of Michael’s head he’s glad for it. 

“Hm?” He asks. His fingers are getting stiff from the cold, numb and red, and Michael squeezes his hands into fists, and then releases. He does this a few times while he waits for Luke to speak, leaving little crescents in his palms where his nails have dug in. He watches Luke’s shoes walking along the gravel.

“You, um... something's wrong.” Luke says, and it’s more of a statement than anything. He sounds very concerned though, and Michael turns to look at him. His hair is flat against his forehead, and Luke thinks it looks dumb but Michael likes it like that. His face is all contorted and nervous, and Michael feels a bit like something in a zoo. But Luke is so kind, and pretty, and nice. He’s one of the nicest things in Michael’s life.

“Yeah,” Michael says simply, because he can’t really find anything to elaborate with. Luke doesn’t want to hear about how Michael’s feeling, not really, and Michael doesn’t think he could put it into words anyway.

“You know you can, uh, always talk to me. And all the boys,” Luke frowns, biting his lip a little.

“Yeah,” Michael says, “Thanks.”

And then they walk in silence for a while. It’s too cold, now, but Michael doesn't want to go back to the bus yet. They’re going to run out of path to walk on, soon, and Michael imagines what it would be like if they wouldn't. He imagines walking along the path forever, leaves crunching beneath him like the first bite of an apple, with Luke. He wants to do that so much that he thinks he’s going to cry.

He takes Luke’s hand, instead. His own hand is shaking a little, but he grips Luke’s fingers until it stills. Luke is a little shocked, but he squeezes Michael’s hand back, and Michael wonders absently how much Luke might miss him if he was gone. And how his Mum’s doing. And why he can’t figure anything out, and why it’s never as good as he thinks it’s going to be. And why he’s always so fucking miserable when good things are happening. He’s doesn’t understand why he’s like this. He hasn’t been happy in such a long time, and his fingers hurt, and his chest hurts, and everything is always just about to cave in but it never quite does.

“Something’s not right,” Michael whispers, “In my head, I think.” Luke is quiet for a while, but his breaths get a little heavy. Michael doesn’t look at his face, stares at his shoes. Luke is squeezing his hand very tightly, though.

“It’s ok,” Luke says, short and quick like it’s hurting him to speak. And it isn't, really, okay _or_ hurting him to speak. It was nice of him anyway. 

They stop walking when they reach a brick wall, and just stare at it together. They just stand there, holding hands, staring at this ugly fucking wall, and Michael does cry, then. He’s so _tired_. 

“Hey, Michael, hey, it’s okay,” Luke says gently, turning to wrap his arms around Michael. It’s not okay. Michael leans all of his weight on Luke, though, lets the tears roll down his cheeks and onto Luke’s sweater. His face kind of itches, but he’s less cold. He swallows a sob, and another, and then lets the third one out. He breaths fast until he’s got control of his voice again.

“I don’t want to feel like this, any more,” Michael admits, so quietly he’s surprised Luke can hear him over the wind.

“We’ll get you some help, Mike. You’ll be alright. I love you, you know?” Luke says into Michael’s hair, all in a rush, and it’s a bit empty, but it’s Luke speaking to him, and it’s Luke caring about him, and he’s so nice. Michael shivers, pulls back from Luke. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes and takes deep, gulping breaths. The air is cold when it hits the back of his throat, and it closes up again. Michael is so tightly strung and held together and he wants to stop. He doesn’t want it anymore.

“Yeah,” Michael forces out, not pulling his hands away from his eyes, “Yeah, I know.”

“Really,” Luke says fiercely, “You’ll be okay. I’ll make you okay,” he promises, forcing Michael’s hands away from his eyes.

Michael laughs, a little bit. Luke is so ridiculous and sweet and stupid and his hands are warm on Michael’s wrists.

“You can’t just make me okay,” Michael sighs, and his cheeks are so cold where they are wet. 

“I don’t care,” Luke says desperately, “I’ll do it.”

Michael closes his eyes, squeezes them tight, and Luke grips his wrists even harder, so he opens them again. They stand there for another moment, just looking at each other.

“I want to kiss you so badly,” Michael admits, rubbing his thumb over Luke’s wrist.

“Me too,” Luke says sadly.

“You know why we can’t,” Michael whispers, “not when I’m like this.” 

Luke nods, his features schooled into what he probably thinks is a serious and understanding face. It crumbles after a moment, his eyes red with tears he’s seemingly determined not to let escape.

“Just, can I just..” Luke trails off, and Michael hugs him tight once, burying his face in Luke’s neck. He presses a gentle kiss just beneath Luke’s chin, before pulling back.

“We should go back to the bus,” He says, his voice still a little wobbly. 

Michael wants so much. He wants Luke to carry him back, and lay him down in bed, and hold him, and he wants it to make him better. He wants Luke to be right, and that by sheer force of will he could make Michael ok again. But it doesn't work like that, and he loves Luke too much for that, and beautiful boys who don’t really understand can’t make everything okay. It’s not romantic, this hole inside him. He has to fill that up first so the romance can come later.

Luke nods, like he understands, but he doesn't and he can’t. 

And Luke wraps his warm hand around Michael’s cold one ,and they head back to the bus.


End file.
